


Dawn is breaking

by legolastariel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M, Rick gets the picture ..., Rick's POV, Separation Anxiety, an end and a beginning, conclusion, first person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8633569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legolastariel/pseuds/legolastariel
Summary: What is left when we’re gone? We lost so many of our family over the years and there’s nothing left but an image in our memory, the echo of a voice and a dull ache in the center of our chest.  The war against the Saviors has started and a new battle is ahead, at the break of dawn. Rick is lost in thought on what would be left of those he loves, of himself, if they didn't come back. And what it would mean to him to lose Daryl. And there's something he needs to do. Something he needs.





	

#  Dawn is breaking

Nov. 23rd, 2016

Dawn is breaking. A new day. Is this gonna be it? My last one or that of someone else I love?

I find myself thinking this way far too often lately, but I can’t help it. I know that even before the apocalypse one never knew when the time was up. Each day could always be the last, but usually people ignored that fact. At least people my age, Carl’s age, Judith’s age. By rights, it shouldn’t be our time, but these days the threat is there every single minute of the day. No one can ignore this any longer.

The war has started. In addition to the walkers, low rations and diseases we may not have the medicine to cure, the living diminish our numbers as well. It will forever be beyond me, why even in times like these, when mankind is an endangered species as it is, we cannot live together in peace. It makes me furious.

There _will_ be peace or I’ll be damned. When I’ve bashed Negan’s skull in with his own bat and all the Saviors are dead and defeated, then we will have peace. They won’t get away with killing Glenn and Abraham and countless others. And they tortured Daryl. There is no mercy for either. 

What is left when we’re gone? We lost so many of our family over the years and there’s nothing left but an image in our memory, the echo of a voice and a dull ache in the center of our chest. 

Maggie has a watch. Sasha a cigar. That’s all, what’s left of Glenn and Abraham. I don’t have anything of Lori – the last picture of her was lost a long time ago and it pains me that Judith will never know what her mom even looked like. What’s gonna be left of me, if I die today? What’s gonna be left of my son? The hat I gave him once? And Judith? Maybe the plushie Daryl got her when she was just born?

Daryl … If I lose him, he’ll be gone entirely. His bike, the angel wing vest, his crossbow … It got all taken away from him. Not even a single bolt is left. But at least he’s here with us … with _me_ again. We got him out and he’s right here by my side, the way he’s been for years now. I didn’t even realize that, until the spot was empty, until no one had my back anymore the way he used to, until I couldn’t turn around any longer for a second opinion or a reassuring look out of shadow blue eyes. I had no idea just how much I would miss him. 

I don’t know what they did to him. He wouldn’t tell. But although the scars are there and he’s still not his old self again, he took up his traditional place instantly and these days, when I look over my shoulder or to my side, he’s there. 

We lost so many loved ones in the past and there will be more casulties in the future, no doubt. In every war there’s a blood price to be paid on either side, before victory can be achieved. 

It’s been too close a call too many times lately. I know now. I _know._ And I can’t bear the thought of losing Daryl again, or Carl and Judith – my family.

The break of dawn … A new battle ahead. Why is it people of all times chose the most beautiful, most magical moment of the day to shed blood? 

Judith is sitting in her highchair, munching on a piece of bread and her curls an unruly mess, while Carl’s preparing some warm milk for her. It’s a good thing we have _one of them cows_ now. Daryl’s standing over by the window, staring out into the twilight deeply lost in thought. I see him like that a lot lately. Maybe one day he will tell me what happened during those weeks he was Negan’s prisoner. More likely than not though, he’s gonna try to shoulder this alone without burdening me or anyone else with his sorrow, the way he usually does. Will he ever understand that his sorrow is mine as well, whether he talks about it or not? We are one, Daryl, you and me.

Michonne comes into the room and casts a quiet look at us, while she adjusts the catana on her back. What does she think? What does she _see_?

I walk up to her and we look at each other silently for a long moment. Then I gently push a solid, square object into her hands and hold them in mine for a moment, give them a squeeze.

         “Could you take a picture, please?”

With a frown she glances at the Polaroid camera I gave her, then lifts her head and looks deep into my eyes.

         “I need that picture”, I croak out, not trusting my own voice right now.

I lift Judith out of her highchair and hold her on one arm, while I wave over to Carl to join us. He understands and, taking a deep breath, walks up to me to stand wordlessly by my side. I hesitate just a second, then I turn my head and look over to the window.

         “Daryl?” 

His head whips around and without even looking, I know Michonne’s eyes just widened. This doesn’t need any words. The message is clear. They both stare at me for a moment, then dare cast each other a glance, before both sets of eyes are on me again.

I meet Daryl’s look and for a split second I see his eyes flash over to Michonne, before he swallows thickly and barely noticable shakes his head in contradiction to what I see in his eyes. 

I know what this means. _“Yes! But not, if someone else gets hurt on account of me.”_

That’s his heart. He’s always thought of everybody else first, always put the happiness and well-being of others before his own. When’s it ever gonna be your turn, Daryl Dixon? 

My eyes are pleading. I know they are. To both of them. To understand. To see that I’ve got no choice and time may be running out. 

Daryl! How do you say “I love you” to someone, when you don’t know, if it’s something they would want to hear at all? 

I look at Michonne and feel tears well in my eyes. 

How do you say “I _don’t_ love you” to someone, when you know it’s the last thing they would want to hear? When perhaps it’s the last thing they ever gonna hear from you. 

Her face is a stony façade as she takes a step closer and unexpectedly comes to stand next to me. She raises the camera and takes a selfie of us, the flash blinding me and having the stinging sensation in my eyes increase. 

It is deadly silent when she holds the picture in her hand after it’s developed. Without a word she suddenly walks over to Daryl, takes his hand and pulls him over to my side.

         “This ain’t a firing squad”, she says matter-of-factly, “so don’t look at me as though it was.” 

I’m glad, she doesn’t say “Smile”. That would be ironic. She peers at the second picture for a long moment, deadpan, before she looks up and lets her eyes wander between Daryl and me.

One could have heard a pin drop and even Judith is totally still in my arm.

Michonne pulls in a deep breath suddenly and then holds the picture of her and I and my children out to me. 

         “I like this”, she says. “It’s a pretty picture, don’t you think?” 

I swallow thickly and nod. I don’t know what to say. She hands me the other one, but I can’t even look at it. I sense Daryl next to me, hear him breathe, feel his warmth radiate, but I’m caught in Michonne’s stare like a deer in the headlights. 

         “Know what the difference between those pictures is?” The question is rhetorical, so I wait, not even realizing that I’m holding my breath. “You’ve got tears in your eyes in the first one, but in the second one you’re smiling.” 

Surprised I take a look at the photo she just handed me and let out the air with a stunned puff. She’s right! I didn’t even realize there was a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth the moment Daryl was right there next to me. 

I still don’t know what to say, but then maybe she’s seen all there is to say in my eyes. Sometimes words are not necessary. 

She nods curtly and then, before turning on her heels, says:

         “We've got a war to fight. But not in here.” 

And then she’s out the door. Carl flashes both me and Daryl a smile, places a loving kiss on his sister’s head and then wordlessly hurrys after Michonne. Sometimes words _are_ necessary and I know, he will find the right ones. 

Daryl turns around to me and just looks at me. He’s always been quiet and today doesn’t seem to be a day for speeches for anyone. We all know what’s waiting for us out there and whatever we say could be our last words, so it had better be the right ones or none at all. 

For a long moment we just look at each other, letting our souls do the communicating the way we have done countless times before. In the end I just press my forehead to his and close my eyes, while he runs a hand gently over my curls. 

Maggie is probably right. We don’t need _things_ like a watch or a picture to remember, to keep the people we love alive – they are in our hearts and in our memory and that makes them immortal. But it doesn’t hurt to _have_ these things, if only to have the world remember, too. Daryl, Carl and I, we will be out there today and probably tomorrow and the day after, and if we don’t return, a part of us is gonna remain – for Judith, for everyone who knew us, for everyone who didn’t know us. A moment frozen in time. Daryl and I and our children.

I pull back and take another look at the photo in my hand, before gently placing it on the kitchen table. 

         “You were smiling, too”, I say softly.

         “Yer supposed ta smile in pictures, aren’t ya? If ya got a reason to, that is.”

I fork my hand through his long hair and pull him close for a feathery kiss. 

         “Sun’s coming up. We gotta go.”

He touches his lips to mine once more and then nods. Despite of what is waiting for us out there today, my heart is lighter all of a sudden. Whatever’s going to happen, whether we’ll come back or not, we won’t be gone completely. I know that now. 

And if we survive, if we return tonight, the first thing I’m gonna see is the man I love, next time dawn is breaking. 

**Author's Note:**

> ems4179 tossed the prompt "photo" my way and this is what my muse came up with. Sorry, I know this is probably not what you had in mind, but there you got it. :-)
> 
> Hope you like it, dear, and all of you wonderful readers out there as well. Let me know what you think. I really appreciate hearing from you.


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